


may your every wish come true

by sweetrevenge



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Fate, Fluff, Harry and Louis are kind of gone for each other, It's sweet, Lots of kissing, M/M, Soulmates, Super Casual, They meet in a grocery store, Too sweet, basically this is a heck ton of christmas fluff, gross and sweet and fluffy, gross stuff like that, why do i do these things, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetrevenge/pseuds/sweetrevenge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Harry, right? Harry Styles?”</em>
</p><p> <em>Harry’s insides are screaming.</em></p><p> <em>“Uh. Yes. Louis Tomlinson, yeah?” he replies, trying desperately to keep the manic smile off his face that he knows is already making an appearance because Louis remembers him (!!!!!), little ole Harry Styles; two years below, nerdy as all hell, and his friend’s dorky, younger brother.</em></p><p>Harry and Louis reconnect during the Holidays, it's kind of fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	may your every wish come true

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Zahra](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrows/pseuds/tomorrows), Michelle, and Jess for being the absolute best and helping me make this semi-publishable and special thanks to [Leah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/supernope/pseuds/supernope) for helping inspire bits and bobs of this fic :)
> 
> Have a great holiday season everyone! I hope you all enjoy! (Title is from Andy William's 'The Holiday Season')

It’s the 20th of December when Harry spots him. He’s in the spice aisle, stocking up on essentials; nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon, and there he is.

He knows that face, and despite his pretty blue eyes being covered up by the dark frames of his glasses, it’s still kind of obvious that it’s Louis Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson, who was the most frequent guest in Harry’s wet dreams all throughout secondary school (and uni, oops). Louis Tomlinson, one of his sister’s best friends and the reason that Harry kind of figured out he was gay to begin with.

Louis Tomlinson. The man of his dreams.

It’s not _that_ creepy, Harry’s obsession with Louis and his subsequent decision that he was, in fact, his soulmate. After all, Louis was friends with Gemma and they had exchanged pleasantries here and there, even one amazingly embarrassing encounter involving erections as they crossed paths at midnight on the way to the loo, but that’s really beside the point.

Harry isn’t even sure that Louis would remember him now, especially since it's been years. He’s in his last year of uni in Manchester now and Louis’ long since graduated. As he embarrassingly remembers, it’s been two years since he’s actually _seen_ Louis. Ever since Gemma left for uni in London, Louis hadn’t exactly come over. He knew Louis had stayed in Manchester, though, had seen him walking near the arts building. He had been making his way across across the quad, laughing (so that those beautiful blue eyes of his crinkled around the edge). He was with his friend Zayn, the fit, tattooed bloke Gemma, Liam, and him hung with at school.

So, yeah. It’s been a while and nothing has really changed. The rush of warmth and happiness that floats to his head and the nervous energy that begins to buzz through his veins is evidence of that. Louis Tomlinson still really gets him going, and he’s still probably his soulmate.

It’s a split second decision that he makes, deciding to approach Louis. After all, Harry is 22 now; he’s been proper ready for a husband and a whole brood of babies for years now, and it’s December the 20th, and Harry’s feeling confident. It’s with that confidence that he spins his trolley around, full with spices and wine and fruit, and pushes towards Louis, who is still examining a packet of flour cutely, nose crinkling and eyes squinting beneath his glasses.

He’s just about to reach Louis, has even prepared the perfect line (picking up flours for someone special?), when the unthinkable happens.

It’s a errant jar of cinnamon that falls, almost in slow-motion, catching underneath the top right wheel of Harry’s trolley and derailing him. He swerves and then suddenly he’s losing control of his trolley and it's careening towards Louis.

Harry can only watch with wide eyes as his overflowing trolley slams into Louis’, making him jump in surprise. It’s a loud interruption to the mellow croon of Christmas music that’s been playing in the store, and Harry is beyond embarrassed. What a great impression to (re)make on your soulmate.

Louis still looks surprised, eyes wide and mouth open a bit (adorably, Harry thinks), so he rushes over in a huff.

“Oops! I’m so sorry!” Harry says, eyes wide and voice shaky.

Louis looks up at Harry then, eyes widening. “Oh. Hi. Um, it’s all right.”

“Are you sure? I’m proper clumsy and there was this cinnamon jar that just came out of nowhere,” Harry mutters. “I am so sorry - I didn’t mean to crash into you”

Louis’ looking at him curiously. It’s adorable, but a bit disarming. He still isn't saying anything, just searching Harry’s face as if he’s trying to remember something important.

“Er? You alright?” Harry asks.

Louis smiles, shakes his head. “Um. Harry, right? Harry Styles?”

Harry’s insides are _screaming_.

“Uh. Yes. Louis Tomlinson, yeah?” he replies, trying desperately to keep the manic smile off his face that he _knows_ is already making an appearance because Louis remembers him (!!!!!), little ole Harry Styles; two years below, nerdy as all hell, and his friend’s dorky, younger brother.

Louis grins, pushing a hand through his (gorgeous) hair. “Yeah, man, it’s really good to see you.” He pushes a hand out towards Harry, presumably for them to shake, but Harry would be okay with dropping to his knees and kissing it. After all, Louis is a prince.

Harry thrusts his hand out to meet Louis’. He’s just now remembering how dainty and lovely Louis’ features are.

They shake, and Louis whistles, “Look at that paw, Styles, last I remember you were smaller than me. You’ve shot right up.”

“Yeah. I mean, it has been a few years since school,” Harry says, already way too comfortable with the way Louis’ hand feels in his; warm and soft.

“Last time I saw you had to have been at Gemma’s going away party,” Louis says, “And possibly around uni once or twice.” He smiles. “Then again, it could’ve been another curly-haired weirdo I saw.” He’s grinning, and ‘weirdo’ sounds like the best pet name in the world right now.

Harry nods, “Probably was me. Saw you around the arts buliding with Zayn once, when you were in your final year.”

“Oh yeah? Cool, man. I actually wasn’t even sure you ended up going to uni around here.”

“Can’t stay too far from home, I’m afraid, I’d miss my family too much,” Harry replies, blushing once he realizes just how sappy he sounds.

Louis doesn’t make fun of him, just smiles in return. “I’m the same, by the way. Still here and I graduated years ago.”

“Uh, Yeah. That’s what Gems said, got a teaching job now, huh?” Harry asks.

Louis’ grin gets even bigger, if that’s possible. “Mhm, over at the primary school a few roads from here. It’s absolutely wicked.”

“That’s great, Louis, I’m really happy for you.” And he means it. Louis was probably born to be a teacher.

He looks bashful, which makes Harry coo on the inside. “And you’re in your last year of uni then? Got plans after graduation?” Louis asks, changing the topic.

“Not sure yet, I’m still working at the bakery until I can get a photography job, might go freelance,” Harry says, wishing that he could photograph the sharp cut of Louis’ cheekbones and the curve of his waist and the dip of his bum in those delicious jeans. He’d make a fantastic first subject.

“Sound fantastic, mate,” Louis says, smiling as they fall into comfortable silence.

Louis breaks it a moment later, Harry’s grateful; he’s sure he would have spouted out something truly embarrassing to fill the silence.

“So, I see you’re still as clumsy as you were back in sixth form,” he says, nodding towards where their trolleys are still stuck together. “And very hungry it seems,” he points out, poking his fingers around the copious amount of food and supplies in Harry’s trolley. “Making dinner for a herd tonight?”

“Er. Actually, it’s kind of a rehearsal?”

Louis’ looking at him with the most adorably quizzical face. “A rehearsal? For what?”

“Well, all my family is coming to my flat this year for Christmas dinner, and I’m cooking everything so I thought I ought to do a rehearsal?” Harry says, shrugging, blush coloring his cheeks.

“That is so cute,” Louis coos, giggling brightly. He sounds like a little bell. “So that’s your mum and Gemma and stepdad. And, uh, your boyfriend, I’m presuming?” Louis asks sheepishly.

"Yup, and my step-brother and his wife and kids, and Gemma’s new boyfriend,” Harry replies. “No boyfriend, though. I’m going through a proper dry spell right now.” And oh god, Harry cannot believe he just uttered that sentence to the single most beautiful man on earth, the man he really wants to have babies with.

Louis’ eyebrows quirk up. “Well then, curly, good to know,” he says with a wink. Harry tries not to think about that too much, lest he start squealing in public.

The moment’s over all too soon, as Louis starts maneuvering their tangled trolleys apart. Harry moves to help him, not really wanting this to be over quite yet.

“So, what are you doing here?” Harry asks, peeking into Louis’ trolley. There are lots and lots of bottles of wine. “Looks like a party? Having people over?”

Louis blushes, probably the first time Harry has ever seen him do that; it’s insanely cute. “Um. Not exactly.” He’s wringing his hands nervously, “Term ended today, and my stupid family decided that they would go on a cruise, and it left three days ago. And because of the whole ‘I’m a teacher thing’ I couldn’t skip work. So, no cruise for me!” Louis finishes with a wry grin. “The wine is, um, therapeutic. And strictly for _one_.”

Harry notes the emphasis on the word _one_ happily before he realizes all of what Louis said, frowning suddenly. Louis shouldn't be unhappy over the holidays. Louis shouldn’t be unhappy ever.

Louis must notice Harry’s reaction because he’s quick to pinch his side and explain, “No, I’m fine with it. They weren’t going to go, but I insisted. Plus, it’s just my mum and stepdad and the four youngest going, both my older sisters are in relationships so they’re all coupled up for Christmas,” he says, “And I’m really not a huge fan of cruises, so.”

Harry holds his breath. This might be it. This might be his opening. This might be the moment he’s literally been waiting for ever since he turned thirteen and discovered that Louis Tomlinson wasn’t just his older sister’s friend, he was Louis Tomlinson; cause of his wet dreams and frequent inhabitant of Harry’s wedding-related fantasies. The dream man of all dream men.

“Um, Louis? You think you might wanna help me rehearse?” he asks, hopeful, waiting with bated breath. “For my dinner that is.”

“You sure?” Louis asks, looking interested but uncertain, “I’m a terrible cook, and I don’t want to interrupt family time.”

Harry shakes his head furiously, “No, don’t worry! It’ll be nice to have some company and my family won’t be over until Christmas day. Plus, we can enjoy your Chrimbo haul,” he says, pointing to the wine in Louis’ trolley, “You owe me, since you get to taste all this stuff I’ll be making.”

Harry knows he’s got him at that, Louis grinning happily and nodding, “Alright, Styles, this could be fun.”

Harry giggles, clapping his hands together (embarrassingly, but who cares, _Louis Tomlinson_ is coming to his _flat_ ).

“Um, I’ve got a few more things to pick up, so maybe you could pop by my flat in an hour?”

Louis’ answering grin is the greatest Christmas gift Harry could ever hope to receive.

~

They exchange numbers, with Louis taking the most wonderful selfie ever and setting it as the contact photo. Harry wants to frame it. He texts his address to Louis, who promises to bring lots of wine and also some show called Lost because Harry hasn’t seen it and that makes Louis insanely surprised. He does a cute little gasp and Harry can’t help but let Louis decide whatever he wants when it comes to this night.

They part in the spice aisle, phones full with new numbers and happy grins on their faces. Harry is on a mission to find fancy cheeses and Louis’ muttering something about needing to buy sugar. Harry has to bite his tongue to keep from telling Louis that he doesn’t need sugar, he’s sweet enough.

By the time they both check out, Harry’s a nervous ball of energy, already texting Gemma and Niall for moral support. Louis hugs him goodbye in the car park and Harry kind of doesn’t want to ever let go.

He does, eventually, and Louis gives him a wink and blows him a kiss, promising he’ll be over at six.

~

By the time six rolls around, Harry’s flat is spotless (not like it usually isn’t) and there’s a batch of cookies baking in the oven. He’s got Christmas music playing softly throughout the house, and the fireplace by his Christmas tree is crackling in the most festive way.

Harry’s been cooking and cleaning and changing outfits ever since he got home, so he hasn’t really taken a minute to stop and pause and actually comprehend that _Louis Tomlinson_ is coming over to his flat. He has squealed about it in detail to Gemma, though, who offered at least a few bits of advice other than ‘ _Suck his dick_!’ She’s a reliable source, Harry is sure of it, so Harry’s got vanilla candles burning and some bottles of Peroni chilling in the fridge, two of Louis’ go-to favourites. Other than his frantic call to her on the way home from the supermarket, Harry’s been forcefully zen about all of this. He’s sure that’s soon to change, especially as he realizes that the doorbell’s been rung and the cookies are ready to come out of the oven.

He pops them out and onto the hob as quick as he can, giving the kitchen a once-over, just in case there’s something embarrassing laying around. (Does an inordinate amount of Nigella cookbooks count as embarrassing? He’ll have to ask Niall, he’ll know.) One more scan around the living room and Harry’s at the door, running a hand through his curls and taking a big breath, before he’s opening the door to the most wonderful sight.

Louis’ on his porch, smiling, dainty hands full with bags.

“Hi!” he chirps. Harry’s sort of speechless.

He must take too long to reply because Louis tilts his head, oh so lovely, and gives him a quizzical, albeit fond (he hopes) look. “Y’alright mate? Fancy letting me in?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Harry says, blushing furiously, “Come in please, let me take a bag.” He grabs one of the bags out of Louis’ hands, their fingers brushing slightly. It sends a shockwave through his body.

Louis walks in slowly, eyes scanning the entire room. “Shit!” he curses, gasping, “Your flat is sick!”

“Thanks, decorated it myself.”

Harry grabs the other bag from Louis’ hand so he can take off his coat. He’s wearing this reindeer jumper that hugs his curves in all the right places and these black jeans that are definitely too tight not to be jeggings. Harry takes a deep breath on his way to the kitchen, content to let Louis explore a bit. It gives Harry time to regroup and assess just how he’s supposed to handle the fact that Louis Tomlinson is walking around his flat shoeless, wearing the most adorable jumper, transforming into some sort of walking cuddle.

“Hey, Harry?” Louis yells from the living room a few minutes later, “Where’d ya go?”

“In the kitchen!” Harry replies. “Just next to the living room.”

Louis enters a few seconds later, grinning all the same. He walks over to where Harry’s peeling vegetables and gives him a happy look. “You’ve got a lovely flat Curly,” Louis says, punctuating curly by giving his curls a little tug. “A proper home.”

 _A proper home, perfect for a husband and lots of babies and kittens_ , Harry thinks.

He clears his throat, desperate for the picture of Louis holding a baby in his flat to be gone from his mind, lest he propose right then. Besides, despite knowing that he’s definitely definitely interested in men, Harry’s not sure if Louis is interested in relationships or marriage, or babies. He’s not even sure he’s interested in Harry, for goodness sake.

Before he can shout _Marry me_! Louis speaks up again.

“So, what are we making?” he asks, peeking over Harry’s shoulder at the pile of veggies. “Or more accurately, what am I tasting?”

“Well. I’m making a veggie bake,” Harry says, “So it’s like a load of delicious vegetables all mixed together with cheeses and then slow baked. It’s kind of just an easier way to get everyone to eat all their greens.”

“Yum!” Louis says, stealing a carrot from his pile, “Sounds delicious.”

“And then a blueberry and apple tart and cranberry sauce, obviously, butternut squash casserole, and homemade mashed potatoes. Oh, and I want to make a honey-ham. I found this great recipe from the Barefoot Contessa, not sure if you’ve heard of her, Ina Garten. I kind of got obsessed when I studied abroad in America.”

“I love the Barefoot Contessa, I’m kind of majorily into watching cooking programs, for some reason. So I make sure to watch them from everywhere!” Louis says, gasping happily. He’s wandering around the kitchen now, opening all of the cupboards and peering inside. It’s making Harry tingle, seeing Louis so at ease in his home, all domestic and sweet. “I fancy myself a Jeffrey though, can’t cook in the slightest.”

Harry’s freaking out. He can’t believe Louis mentioned Ina’s _husband_. “Uh, you’d be a Jeffrey then, huh?” Harry asks, trying his best to be as slick as he can be. “So you’d want your own Ina running around making you food?”

Louis nods, “Yeah. Someone who likes to cook, someone who I can spoil with presents and such. I’m much better at that than I am cooking.” He winks at Harry.

“Someone? So you’re not seeing anyone?” Harry’s never been good at being subtle.

Louis looks at him curiously, albeit with a smile on his face. “Nope, haven’t had anyone in awhile.” He blushes, hard.

Harry giggles, “Dry spell then, Lou?” The nickname just spills out. Harry hopes the blush on Louis’ face isn’t just from his double entendre.

“No!” Louis insists, “Well, yes, I mean, if we’re being honest here.” He shrugs. “I’m at the point in my life where I’m kind of looking for something more...”

“Long term?” Harry finishes, hoping that he’s not completely off base.

“Exactly. Long term,” Louis hums.

“Well. Um. Yeah. Good to know,” Harry squeaks. “So, uh, butternut squash, then?”

~

By the time Harry’s finished making the squash and the potatoes, and the ham and the dessert, he’s a bit tipsy. Louis’ been supplying him with wine all night and raiding his supply of beer from the fridge. He sends a silent thank you to Gemma when Louis happily compliments Harry for having his favorite beer, giving his hip a little nudge in thanks.

They’re still in the kitchen, though it’s nearing ten at night, and everything is wonderful. The whole night has been magnificent. Louis’ been proper charming, helping him with what he can in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, and making him laugh all night long, moaning as he tasted each dish. The last part hadn’t been wonderful at all, actually, from the way Harry’s pants had gotten increasingly tighter as the night went on.

They’ve been talking a lot, in between each dish. In addition to hearing more about his job as a teacher, Harry’s learned that Louis lives alone, not five minutes from his own flat, and he’s in a five-a-side league with some teachers from the Greater Manchester area. He’s an avid lover of all things telly, hence the Lost obsession, and he spends his free time hanging out with Zayn or Liam.

Harry’s shared his love for photography with Louis, showing him a few shots from his recent trip to China. He’s introduced his cat, Jimmy, to Louis’, who had shown an immediate liking to him, despite Jimmy not really being so friendly to strangers in the past. Harry’s pretty much bared his heart and soul to Louis, after four hours in the kitchen together, and he’s not sure that he minds it that much.

~

After dinner and dessert, Harry is kind of desperate to keep Louis at his flat for as long as possible, so he’s happy when Louis rustles around in his bag and pulls out all the discs of Lost, tilting his head toward Harry questioningly. “Fancy watching an episode?”

Harry nods furiously, which makes Louis laugh a little at him, not unkindly.

“You sure?” Louis asks, already making his way toward the living room, “I know you’ve probably got a lot to do to get ready for Christmas.”

“No, no, no,” Harry insists quickly. “Well, I do, but I’d much rather hang out with you if I’m being honest.”

Harry’s not sure if the slight reddening of Louis’ cheeks after he says that is because that makes him happy, or because his flat is so warm. He really hopes it’s not because of the temperature of his flat.

“Plus, I’ve been meaning to watch Lost for ages, and I hear it’s really confusing,” Harry says, kneeling beside Louis at the DVD player. “It’ll be nice to have someone explain it to me.”

Louis knocks his shoulder against Harry’s and smiles, putting the disc into the DVD player. Harry gets up, falling onto the sofa and situating himself in the middle. It’s kind of selfish, taking up the exact middle spot in the sofa, but Harry’s grateful he does so when Louis sits down next, beer in his hand, squished close to Harry’s side.

Their bodies slot together naturally, legs pressing together, arms tangling. Louis looks disgustingly cozy, and it makes Harry giddy. They fall into comfortable silence as the first episode begins, a big fluffy blanket draped over them, knees warm where they’re touching.

The show is brilliant, is the thing; so good and interesting that Harry misses Louis glancing over at him a few times too many to be normal; misses how Louis gets progressively closer to him, doesn’t notice until the episode ends that Louis’ practically on his lap, their arms tangled together like a pretzel.

He’s spluttering thoughts about the first episode to an amused Louis when he does notice and goes instantly quiet, eyes trained on where their thighs are overlapping. It’s hard not to be speechless, is the thing. Louis’ got these _thighs_ and _legs_ that make Harry feel like goo; all muscular and strong. It’s easy to imagine them wrapped around his body, flexing as Harry kisses down his stomach. It’s even easier to imagine how tight they’d wrap around his neck as he’d lick into his arse.

He shivers suddenly, arousal stirring in his pants. Louis must notice his change of behavior because he detangles his hand from where it’s settled on Harry’s shoulder. Harry misses the warmth already.

“Um. Harry?” Louis asks a second later, after too long of silence. “This isn’t weird is it?”

“What?” Harry asks.

“Like, this. You and me right now?” He looks nervous. Harry hates it. “I mean, this is kind of odd, how easy this is. It’s been what, six hours? Should it really be like this?”

Harry considers it for a moment. “Nah, it’s not odd. It’s wonderful,” he says, smiling back at Louis. “I _like_ how comfortable this is. How well we fit.”

Louis is definitely blushing now. “Yeah?” he says, moving a bit closer to Harry, hand moving to thread through Harry’s curls. The touch is soft and gentle, but maddeningly familiar and loving. He never wants Louis to stop.

And with the most confidence he can muster, Harry leans over, fits his lips against Louis’, the touch gentle and soft. He can feel Louis gasp underneath him, but then his lips are slotting against his own in the most wonderful way. It feels like nothing he’s ever felt before. It feels like snuggling up on the sofa on a snowy day, it feels like baking cookies and ending up eating more of the mixture than you actually make. It feels like home and Harry wants to chase the taste forever.

They separate after a minute of soft kisses, so sweet and loving that Harry’s almost too aware of how normal and domestic it feels. Louis’ still got his hands clasped behind Harry’s neck, refusing to let go even as their lips part. He giggles sweetly, and drops a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth; his lips tasting of sugar and beer, like something familiar and new at the same time.

“I can’t believe I just snogged Gemma Styles little brother,” Louis whispers into his mouth, dropping another kiss on his lips.

Harry groans, “Can we not talk about my sister right now? I’d kind of just like to keep kissing you.”

Louis giggles and nods, attaching their lips again and moving as close as possible to Harry’s body.

Lost is kind of forgotten for that night.

~

They wake up the next morning on the sofa; limbs intertwined. Harry’s slotted against Louis’ warm back, hands pressed together on his stomach, legs tangled together under the big duvet Harry had dragged from his bedroom late last night. He can hear the soft breaths from where Louis’ spooning him, each little exhale fluttering his curls softly. Harry smiles, so incredibly content, so happy.

He remembers last night. He remembers cooking and cleaning and giggling with Louis; remembers making their way to the sofa and remembers watching an episode of Lost and then getting lost in Louis’ lips. He remembers snogging him for hours and hours, until they fell asleep tangled together. And the last thing that Harry remembers is hearing Louis’ tinkle of a laugh and the touch of his lips to his neck.

He sighs happily, stroking Louis arm where it’s wrapped around him tightly. He feels so safe, so secure. He feels at home.

He hears Louis waking up a few minutes later, breathing shallow and body shifting. He feels when Louis wakes up, a pair of lips kissing down his bare neck slowly, stopping at his shoulder. Louis takes a deep inhale into the soft skin of Harry’s neck before dropping another kiss to Harry’s sleep-warm skin.

“Mmm. You smell amazing, little spoon,” Louis whispers, tightening his hold.

Harry blushes furiously. “Good morning love,” he replies, turning in Louis’ arms so that they’re face to face, morning breath be damned.

They kiss deeply, bodies intertwined. They kiss until the only thing they can taste is each other, until Harry has to come up for air and giggles, Louis tickling down his sides.

“Last night was fun,” Louis says, once they’ve settled down. “This morning is fun.”

“Fun?” Harry asks with a frown. Yes, it was fun, but it was also much more.

“Get rid of that frown, babe,” Louis says, kissing the side of his mouth quickly. It does the trick, because Harry’s smiling again. “It was fun, but it was also amazing. Quite possibly the best night I’ve had all year. Maybe the best night I’ve had ever since I met Beckham when I was 16.”

Harry smiles happily, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, darling,” Louis replies in a whisper. “Never been happier to run into someone at the supermarket.”

“Same here. Been kind of gone for you since you first came over to our house, wearing that Queen t-shirt and yelling about football,” Harry whispers back, remembering his first encounter with Louis fondly.

“You remember that?” Louis asks incredulously. “You. Are. Amazing,” he declares, punctuating each word with a kiss to Harry’s lips. “And I’ve been a bit gone for you for awhile now too. Reckon ever since I first saw you.”

“We’re the real deal, babe. You and me,” Louis says, “can see myself with you for a long time, don’t care that this all happened just last night.” He kisses him again and they cuddle up, content in each others’ warmth.

It’s sweet, and everything that Harry’s ever wanted to hear, and he believes it; believes in Louis, believes in them and what this could be, what this already is.

He’s quite sure he’s found what he’s been looking for.

~

A few days later, when the entire Styles-Twist clan has come for Christmas dinner, no one’s really surprised to see Louis there. In fact, no one’s really surprised to learn that he’s been there for the past five days, and they’re sort of kind of definitely dating.

Harry doesn’t plan on letting Louis out of his sight any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiii I hope you guys liked!!!!  
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!!!!](http://www.cocoalou.tumblr.com)


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